Nowhere could he see that reaching, menacing Hand. ‘Please to sit, monsieur. Take the one that struck him at this moment. Fell to sin, did Martha. ‘Lord,’ Gerald uttered, his inexplicable annoyance evaporating. He led her unerringly, pushing her down the narrow stairway that had been the servants’ access to the upper floors, and thence through a small door that led into the chapel. She occupied a small sofa, a little apart, a ruddy-complexioned gentleman some years her senior beside her, and glanced about with an air of considerable unease.
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